The Last Dance
by Scrappy7082
Summary: DXC. Prom night is a big deal, especially if you're going with the one guy everyone wants. But what happens when the one person you despise the most shows his face? PLEASE READ.


**The Last Dance**

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><p>Courtney wrung her hands in an irritated manner. She was waiting for Bridgette to give up on styling her hair, which may have taken awhile; she had seemed adamant about curling it.<p>

"After all," she argued, "you have to look good for prom night!"

Ah, prom night. What a magical night. A pretty flurry of dresses, suits, and makeup, twirling around on a dance floor. But underneath, everyone is really just a nervous wreck. Beads of sweat roll down foreheads, hands shake, voices tremble. Some hide it better than others. Courtney was not one of these people. She found it quite hard to mask her anxiety; especially as she was going with Justin.

Justin was known throughout the school for being the hottest senior Brockswith High had ever seen. He often modeled in his spare time. Yes, he was that hot. And he could get any girl he wanted with just a snap of his fingers. He could probably convince Jennifer Lawrence to be his date if he wanted to. So for Courtney to be asked by him, of all people, to prom, of all dances, was a great honor.

Luckily, Bridgette was there to help her prepare. Bridgette was going with Geoff, of course, her blonde boyfriend as of sophomore year. She was fortunate enough to not have to worry about whether or not she would be asked, unlike most girls.

Presently, Bridgette was attempting to use a curling iron to make ringlets in the brunette's hair. However, it didn't seem to want to be changed from its current style.

"OW! Bridgette! Can't you just s-stop- ah- trying already?" Courtney choked out, wincing from the heat of the iron.

"No."

"You're going to burn my hair off!"

"Courtney, it would take a _very _long time for the heat to be-" Bridgette broke off, finally looking down at her handiwork to see that Courtney's hair was becoming very dry in some places and making a crackling noise. It sounded like someone stepping in old straw, to be honest. She let out a nervous laugh. "Actually, you know what, you're probably right. We should stop."

Courtney sighed in relief, a little confused as to why Bridgette gave up only now, but thankful nonetheless.

Courtney stood up from the chair and leaned back to stretch out her back. She had been sitting down with her back completely upright for at least half an hour.

As she stood up again, she asked, "What do we do next, Bridge?"

In a second, a gigantic smile became glued on Bridgette's face. It was so large that Courtney half-expected the blonde to turn into the Cheshire Cat. (Of course, she did no such thing; that would be implausible.)

The grin split to allow her to speak. "Now, we pick out our _dresses!_"

* * *

><p>Courtney did not take pleasure in doing most girly things.<p>

For example, she hated baking- it was too much mess. Sleepovers were not her thing either. She'd much rather stay up to work than to simply gossip with friends. And she disliked shopping; she felt it took too much precious time and girls were stupid to get excited about it. So, it should be expected that she did _not_ like picking out clothes.

And she most definitely didn't _like _it. She absolutely _loved_ it.

Every single night, whether the next day was a school day or the weekend, Courtney carefully chose all of her outfits. She would take the shirts off the hanger, the pants from a shelf, and the undergarments out of her drawer before stacking them all in a neat pile on her bedside table. She felt she was always prepared after doing this; ready for anything.

Again, Courtney loved doing it. However, there was one very serious problem at hand. She had very few dresses or skirts. Her tops only ranged from cream to grey and from button-ups to polo shirts; the capris she owned were all of light shades of green or white. As you can tell, she did not have a very wide selection of garments to pick from. Or at least, not a _good_ selection.

But, hey, that's what friends were for. And luckily, Courtney and Bridgette were the same size.

* * *

><p>There might have been some unforeseen conflicts with letting Courtney use Bridgette's dresses. For example, they were used to different styles of the dresses. Well, Courtney was.<p>

Courtney shook her head resolutely. "No, definitely not."

"But you look _so _hot. I mean, like, really hot."

"What I _look_ like is a prostitute. Like, a full-on, slutty prostitute."

Yeah, she may have been exaggerating just a little.

But _she_ definitely didn't look like a prostitute, even if the style of the dress was foreign to her. She currently donned a low V-neck with a skirt that ended just below the knee, showing quite a bit of skin. The silky fabric was red and hugged her figure perfectly.

"Bridge, give me another dress."

Bridgette smirked, saying, "That's the only dress I have." Courtney didn't believe this for a second. Walking over to the closet, she yanked open the doors to see- nothing. Nothing, except for the light blue gown that her friend had specifically labeled as her special dress.

The brunette was very irritated. There was no way she was gonna wear this _thing_. And she was _prepared_ to tell Bridgette that.

* * *

><p>Right now, Courtney was driving back to her mans- I mean, <em>house- <em>where Justin had agreed he'd pick her up. She was still wearing the rose colored gown that Bridgette had forced upon her. Even though she tried really hard to get a new one.

It was much too late to buy one and no matter how hard and how long she searched, Courtney could not find any other clothes suitable for prom in Bridgette's room. (She suspected that Bridgette had purposely taken out all the other dresses and hid them somewhere.) So, Courtney was stuck with this one.

Just as she was closing the door behind her, she heard the rumble of a car engine and the slight screech of tires. Justin pulled up in his black Lamborghini. As he stepped out of the car, Courtney was yet again struck by how unnaturally beautiful he was. His hair was swept back in his usual cut and his golden skin gleamed.

He wore a black suit and tie. Unfortunately, the tie was white, and the two did not really match together. But Courtney was fine with that.

Drawing her eyes away from Justin, she realized she needed to grab some things. Like her house key, her purse, a jacket, a pad just in case, and maybe- She was cut off from finishing her internal list when there was a knock at the door. Deciding just to leave the house key under the welcome mat, she dropped everything else she was holding and opened the door.

"Good evening, m'lady." His voice was smooth like velvet. Courtney felt chills run down her spine.

"Hello, Justin," she greeted weakly, "how are you doing?"

He slowly bent down until his face was level with hers. She could smell the strong (possibly too strong) scent of his cologne as he responded, "Much better, now that you're here."

Had the line come from any other person, it would have come across cliche and Courtney would probably have rolled her eyes at their unoriginality. However, because Justin was so breathtakingly handsome, all she said was, "T-thank you." She felt like a complete bimbo at the way she was behaving, but she just couldn't help it.

Standing straight again, Justin took her hand in his and escorted her to his car. Once she was safely inside, he went back and quietly shut the door, making sure it was locked properly. He then glided over to the driver's side and slipped into the car where Courtney was trying, with difficulty, to compose herself.

As Justin started the vehicle, she stayed silent. In fact, she hardly talked on the entire ride over to their school, except to answer occasional questions like "How's school?" or "What's your favorite band?" She was worried if she tried to make small talk she'd say something stupid.

They arrived at the rather large school at a reasonably good time, judging by how many other cars there were parked around the streets. Courtney was still nervous about how her peers would receive her when she went in wearing the red atrocity Bridgette had called a dress. She fiddled with her hair a little and found that it was much drier than she remembered. Making a mental note to scold Bridgette about that later, she opened the car door and stepped out.

* * *

><p>The gymnasium still smelt of sweat from that morning's basketball shoot out, but other than that, it was quite pleasant inside. The walls were decorated with banners and a disco ball hung from the ceiling, flashing multicolored lights all around. (How the school was able to pay for it, Courtney had no idea.) A large set of stereos stood against one wall, playing the all of the hottest songs.<p>

Teenagers either danced to the booming music, gossiped with their friends, stood alone snacking by the buffet table, or, to her disgust, made out passionately.

Justin gently led Courtney over to a small table at the back, away from all the crazy fun on the dance floor. Pulling out her chair for her, he told her that he was going to get them some drinks, and that he'd be right back. She nodded, confirming that she did hear him over the loud music.

Just as he set off, two blonde heads found their way over to her. Bridgette was dressed in her beautiful blue ball gown and Geoff had on a grey suit with a blue bow-tie that matched the shade of her dress exactly. Courtney felt a little jealous of how good they looked together.

Bridgette smiled. "I see you're wearing the dress I lent you."

"Yes, but only because you forced me to. Otherwise, I would never be seen in this skimpy outfit," Courtney huffed, standing up.

"What's wrong with the dress, dudette? I think you look great!" The male surfer exclaimed. Geoff never was one to be pessimistic. In fact, he only ever said good things.

Even if they weren't true.

"Yeah right, Geoff. I know you're just being nice."

Geoff seemed slightly offended. "Nah, bra, you really _do_ look good," he said earnestly. Then, seeing someone behind her that he knew he began to wave furiously. "Hey! Dude! Over here!" After a few seconds, he lowered his arm, obviously having caught the person's attention, and greeted them casually.

"Hey Geoff; Malibu." The voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. She knew that voice. It belonged to the one person who never ceased to make her life hell. It was-

"Duncan, you know Courtney right?"

She could practically hear the smirk in his voice as he responded, "As it so happens, I do." He came up behind her and put his arm around her shoulders. "We're the best of friends."

Quickly shrugging off his arm, she corrected him. "Actually, Geoff, though we have unfortunately met, I would hardly consider this pig a friend of mine." She turned to face Duncan, and addressed him now. "I don't know how you got that idea into your brainless head."

Duncan's grin grew wider. "And I don't know how you got a date to prom in the first place. I thought that pole was shoved up your ass too far."

Automatically sensing tension, Bridgette came between them. pushing Duncan back a little, she said, "Guys, cool it. This is supposed to be a dance, not a boxing match."

Having successfully prevented a fight between the two, she turned to Geoff. "That reminds me. Geoff, why don't we take up where we left off." He grabbed her hand, kissed her cheek, and said, "Why not?" as they walked back into the mass of intoxicated teens.

Soon after the blonde couple had walked away, Justin began returning to her drinks in hand. Unfortunately for her, Duncan did not leave Courtney's side as would have been expected. Instead, he snaked his arm around her waist and murmured, "Make sure you save the last dance for me. And, by the way: _nice_ dress."

About to tell him off for being so perverted, she turned around, only to find him already drowning in the crowd. Justin nudged her with her elbow and gave her the drink. Before downing the punch like most would, Courtney sniffed the liquid, and scrunched up her nose in distaste. Yep, somebody had spiked it.

Sighing, she set her glass down on the table. Staring down at his drink, Justin cleared his throat. "Uh, Courtney? Who was that guy?"

"Oh, no one worth mentioning." And she felt that was the truth. He was just an ignorant ogre who liked to tease her for some reason he refused to make known. Or at least not known to her.

The male model's brow scrunched up a little, but not much. "And, don't mind me for asking, but what exactly did he say to you before I got here?" His tone was quiet yet imperative.

Courtney thought he was being a little over-protective of her at the moment. She didn't really see what the big deal was about Duncan talking to her. "Nothing important." She was trying to keep her answers as vague as possible. Knowing what Duncan had proposed to her would make Justin even more hostile towards him. But then again, why should she care?

Justin's grip on his cup got tighter. He took a large gulp of the tainted punch before, rather rudely, demanding, "God dammit, Courtney! Can't you actually answer me for once?" She could tell that the drugs were getting to him now. His face was turning red.

Courtney was getting pissed off. He had no right to speak to her like that. "Well, I don't think it's really your business-"

"HA! Not my business?! You're _cheating_ _on_ _me_, and it's not my business?!"

"Cheating on you?! We aren't even da-"

"You're just like all the others! You think you're better than me! HAHA! I'm the best! I'll show you!" And with that illogical statement, he ran off (in a pretty, girly fashion).

Courtney could not say she was upset. Just utterly bewildered.

* * *

><p>The brunette was bored out of her mind. Since Justin had left an hour ago, she'd just been hanging out around the buffet table like all the other loners did. She was still confused at the abrupt way in which he'd gone, but, she reasoned, it was probably his punch.<p>

One overly-cocky boy whom she recognized as Cody Hamilton from her Anatomy class had asked her to dance a little while ago, but she had declined. She didn't feel like doing much, even if it was one of the biggest nights of her life. After all, her _date _had already fled the campus.

So she simply stood, watching the others and eating the (surprisingly) good food. Occasionally someone she knew would say hi, though they nearly always sent her a look asking where her date was, if she had one at all, and why she was still there.

After another forty-five minutes, Courtney decided to go home. There wasn't anything of interest going on at the moment anyway, and she was getting tired.

However, before she could get herself fully out the door, someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her back inside. She stumbled a little, falling into the arms of her pursuer. She noted subconsciously that they were definitely well-toned and that the person's pecs didn't seem too shabby either.

However, that did not mean that she still wasn't very annoyed at whoever was holding her captive. By now, she could have been back in her nice, warm car... that she didn't bring with her. Courtney mentally face-palmed herself.

She was cut off from her depressing train of thought by a voice near her left ear.

"Leaving so soon, Princess?"

Courtney's blood ran cold as she pushed herself out of his grasp with inhuman speed and whipped around so fast she gave herself whiplash. And, just as she had guessed, there was Duncan, bearing that God-awful smirk of his.

"What do _you_ want?" She sneered, putting her hands on her hips. Duncan simply laughed.

"I _want_ my dance."

Oh, lord. He couldn't be serious, could he?

"Like I'm going to dance with an uncivilized Neanderthal such as yourself."

"Too bad, babe," he replied as he slipped his arm around her waist for the second time that evening, "you have no choice."

He quickly linked his fingers with hers and led her out to the dance floor, despite her objections. She tried to remove his hand from her waist and her hand from his, but found that his grip was simply too strong.

Once under the colorful light of the disco ball, he let go of her waist and spun her around once or twice. Then he dipped her back a couple times. He danced like a professional, she had to admit it. And she was impressed.

After a little while, Courtney practically forgot that she was dancing with Duncan, the most man she hated the most in the world. In fact, she thoroughly enjoyed herself.

Unfortunately, the song ended- much too soon, in their opinion; but they weren't going to tell each other that. Instead, they just stood rather awkwardly, facing the other but never meeting their eyes.

"So, umm... That was nice."

"Yeah, it was..."

Duncan let out a chuckle as he cast a glance at her. "You know, you really do look good in that dress."

The brunette could feel her face go red. Why was she so embarrassed?

When she still stayed silent, he sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a while, contemplating something. A few seconds later, he seemed to have made up his mind about whatever it was.

"Hey, uh, do you wanna, you know... go out sometime?"

Courtney was shocked. "Actually, I'm kind of busy these days... I don't really know if I can..." God, she sounded like even more if an idiot than she did in front of Justin. Busy? Yeah, _right_.

Duncan's expression darkened a little, but not really noticeably, as he responded, "Oh, that's alright... I guess."

He turned around and began retreating to the car park quickly. Courtney felt pretty bad, so she followed him out of the gymnasium. Once he was by his car door, she spoke shyly.

"Well, maybe some other time, when I'm free. It'd be... nice."

Duncan's shoulders stopped drooping. He looked over his shoulder at her. "Oh, okay. Umm... Well, I'll text you the details." He climbed into the drivers' seat, and was surprised that she was still standing there. "Is there something else you wanted to say?"

"Yeah, actually... Can you drive me home?"

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Well, that was slightly better than my last one. A lot longer anyway. Anyway, I hope you liked it!**

**-Scraps**

**(P.S.- I don't support JustinXCourtney in any way, shape, or form. Duncney for the win!)**


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